1876. ] The Florida Chameleon. 9 
When the first sharp days of October set in, the lizard sur- 
prised me by a specimen of adaptation to circumstances. It 
had seemed hitherto incompetent for anything of that sort. It 
selected a hummock of dry Sphagnum, and with its nose worked a 
hole something after the manner of a toad while making its hole. 
Letting it do all it could alone, I then deepened the little burrow 
with my finger. This was to be its sleeping-place, and the little 
troglodyte has occupied it steadily, and has slept in it every night 
now for five weeks. 
This 6th of November is delightfully bland, following as it 
does a raw, bleak day. The sun is now full upon the fern case 
in the window, and Nolie puts its head out of his sphagnum cave. 
After many twitchings right and left, for about ten minutes, it re- 
solves to go out for an airing. There is something interesting in 
the seeming contradictions of these little beings. One while you 
would think from their movements that they were all impulse 
and flash, so rapid and jerky, and in such unexpected directions, 
are their movements. There is so much circumspection in those 
eyes —a literal looking around things from which one might in- 
fer deliberation in every act. Whatever may be the preliminary 
thinking, the execution is all impulse, flash, and dash. Still, there 
is one notable exception to all this. It is in the matter of un- 
dressing himself, an operation which comes off several times in 
the season. Nothing can possibly be more deliberate. Previous 
to the undertaking it looks much as did Patrick’s parrot when 
thinking intently on nothing, although with Anolis there is real 
head-work going on. In fact, its head is actually turning gray, 
yes, almost white. There is a serious corrugation of the scalp, then 
a splitting of the cuticle. It now rubs the head against one of the 
posts at the corners, thus pushing the skin back on to the neck, on 
both sides of which the loosened cuticle stands out like a flange, 
or stiff collar of extravagant proportions. As the sunlight shines 
through, it has a decided hue, namely, the pale blue of tempered 
steel, which by a trick of the trade is so exaggeratingly imitated 
by painting on certain steel implements, as axes and scythe 
blades. So the creature sits,in the sunlight, forcing upon us 
the most ludicrous associations by its great stand-up collar. We 
are reminded of the vain servant on his Sunday parole, with 
collar broad and reaching to the ears, stiffly starched and over- 
blued. « Massy on us, Julius!” said -his fellow-servant, “ if 
you should fall down atween dose new scy’ blades, you permit 
suicide, most sartin!”’ In the sunlight this ragged cuticle is ex- 
